


A Normal Life

by IgnorantArmies



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: As much as that's even possible, Babysitting, Backstory, Chlodine - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kitten!, Post-Canon, Sam drake x reader - Freeform, Sam has a normal life, angsty fluff, puppy!, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 19:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnorantArmies/pseuds/IgnorantArmies
Summary: A collection of drabbles and one shots about Sam readjusting to 'normal' life post-UC4.(Partially inspired by thesedialogue promptsandrandom story starters- feel free to request your faves in the comments or byhitting me up on tumblr!)





	1. In which Sam is unable to say no to Cassie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I want a Mohawk.”_
> 
> _“Sure, get me the scissors.”_
> 
> _“Sam, no.”_
> 
> **In which Sam is unable to say no to Cassie.**

 

“Look, kiddo. I’d rather do a lot of things than eat my vegetables but you gotta do it,” Sam sighed, as Cassie pouted over her plate.

“They’re mushy.”

“They are cooked to perfection you tiny Gordon Ramsay.”

The pout deepened. “I’m _not_ a gord-damn namsy!”

Sam smirked at the four-year-old as she prodded at a carrot. “No. You’re worse. And you’ll never grow hairs on your chest if you don’t eat ‘em.”

Cassie looked up at him in awe. “Hairy like Daddy?”

“Exactly. He always eats his vegetables.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Even broccoli.”

It was a bold lie. Sam had spent years cajoling his little brother to eat some sort of balanced diet when they were younger, even when their grifting budget only ever really stretched to fast food or endless days of rice and tinned veg. And broccoli had been Nathan’s nemesis. Still. If you were hungry enough you ate pretty much anything. But he didn’t think starving his niece was a viable option here.

She eyed him suspiciously. “What’s for after?”

Sam maintained his poker face. “Eat your dinner and you’ll find out.”

And there was that look – the same one Nathan used to give him – all puppy eyes and chubby cheeks. “Cake?”

He couldn’t prevent a laugh bursting out of him. “Cake? We’d have to make one.”

She brightened. “Can we? A chocolate one? With frosting? And sprinkles?”

Sam feigned deep consideration. “A welcome home cake for your mom and dad? Not a bad idea, kiddo. But-” he poked her gently with his fork. “Vegetables first.”

*

The kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off by the time they got the mix in the oven. Cassie had insisted on doing all the egg-cracking and batter-stirring and the pair of them were covered in flour. The decoration went about as well as could be expected but Sam let the kid go to town – no point stifling her creativity – and the end result looked like a unicorn had died a gruesome and painful death all over the counter.

“Perfect,” he said, picking a lump of dried frosting out of Cassie’s hair. He was pretty sure there was some up his nose, too.

“Can we eat it now?”

“Shouldn’t we wait until your parents get back?”

But her finger was already swiping a deep gouge into the side of the cake. “Just a little bit?”

Sam shot her a mock-stern look and snuck his own taste of frosting. “How much is ‘just a little bit’?”

*

Almost half, as it turned out.

He let her work off the sugar rush in the bath, half-flooding the bathroom with a re-enactment of the Gunsway Heist using an assortment of Cassie’s animal figures to represent Avery and his crew.

_Might as well trash every room in the house while we’re at it._

When he’d managed to wash the majority of the cake ingredients off his niece he wrapped her up in a towel like a burrito. A very wriggly, giggly, soggy burrito.

After a brief wrestle to get her into pyjamas, she presented him with her hairbrush and a demand that he give her braids so that she’d “look like a wavy mermaid” in the morning. Sam ran his hands through his own hair in despair. Nathan and Elena were due back in less than an hour and Cassie’s bedtime had come and gone – not to mention the fact that Sam had little to no experience in plaiting hair – but she was giving him 'the look' again and before he knew it she was pinning back his fringe with butterfly hairclips and cackling wildly.

*

“Looks like you two had a good time,” Elena grinned, setting down her bags and cutting herself a slice of cake.

Sam gave a sheepish grimace. “I’m… gonna clean up, I promise.”

“Nice hair,” Nathan commented with a totally straight face. Cassie's braids were lopsided and Sam's head was covered with multicoloured hair ties and slides. The pair of them did coordinated twirls to show off their handiwork and Elena nearly choked on a mouthful of sprinkles.

“You know, you can say ‘no’ to her, just occasionally,” Nathan told his brother.

Cassie frowned at herself in the mirror.

“I want a Mohawk.”

Sam nodded in approval. “Sure, get me the scissors.”

Cassie let out a little meep of joy and skittered off to the kitchen.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Sam, no.”

“Sammy, yes!” Cassie shrieked from the hallway.

Sam shrugged in defeat. “Well? You heard the lady...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [dialogue prompt #55](http://ignorantarmiesclashbynight.tumblr.com/post/172448371503/dialogue-prompts): “Look, kiddo. I’d rather do a lot of things than eat my vegetables but you gotta do it”
> 
> Okay so this one should really be part of [Babysitting Cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13746141/chapters/31585929) but I already wrote a Sam chapter for that, so thought I'd start a new series... As you do.
> 
> More to come. Requests totally welcome!


	2. In which Sam is outsmarted by a kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon request from Tumblr for a Sam/Reader fic using #51 & #60 from [these dialogue prompts](http://ignorantarmiesclashbynight.tumblr.com/post/173293180683/dialogue-prompts): 
> 
> _"Baby, please tell me you can explain why there is a hole through the window”_ & _"Stop laughing, this isn’t funny!”_
> 
>  
> 
> **In which Sam is outsmarted by a kitten.**

You got home from a late shift ready to drop, kicking off your shoes in the hall and following the scent of cooking through to the kitchen. Sam always had something ready for you when you worked late and you were looking forward to slumping down onto the couch with him to watch something inane on TV and unpack your day.

“Smells good,” you murmured, peering into the bubbling pan on the stove, but there was no sign of the cook anywhere. “Sam?”

You checked the bedroom but it was empty. The bathroom, too. It was only when you headed into the living room that you saw any trace of the man. The tell-tale signs of destruction. You sighed.

“Baby, please tell me you can explain why there’s a hole through the window.”

The curtains fluttered around the smashed pane of glass. If you didn’t know him better you’d have been worried, but then a familiar voice drifted in from outside.

“Uh. A little help, please?”

You yanked the broken window up and open – the way a normal person might do it – and poked your head out. A light rain was falling, glinting off the lights of the traffic below.

“Up here.”

You craned your neck upwards and were only slightly surprised to come face to face with Sam’s foot, dangling in mid-air above your head.

He was hanging from the fire escape by one hand, the other one arm curled tight to his chest, and tucked up in the crook of his elbow was…

“Really? A kitten?”

Sam gave an embarrassed little smile. “It was stuck.”

You shook your head. “Aaand now so are you.”

He was almost at the outer edge of the balcony above, just far enough away from the ladder that he couldn’t reach it with his feet, and unable to use his right hand to change his position, full of kitten as it was. He’d clearly been out there a while; his hair was slicked down with rain and he was shivering slightly. The pressure from hanging by his fingertips made the veins on his arm stand out in stark relief, and his shirt was riding up, revealing the three little scars on his left side. The taut muscle of his stomach tensed as he twisted. It didn’t exactly look comfortable but you could have quite happily watched him swinging gently in the soft glow of the streetlights for hours…

You were staring and he was giving you an unimpressed look.

“How the hell did it even get up here?” you asked, staring down at the four-storey drop.

Sam tried to shrug and almost lost his grip with a grimace. “No idea, I was in the middle of dinner when I heard it mewing at the window.”

You brushed a few shards of glass off the windowsill and leaned against it, stifling a smile as the kitten gave a long yawn and buried its head into Sam’s armpit.

“And the window?” you said, pointing at the hole in the glass.

“I almost had it but it kept climbing higher and higher and I…uh, slipped,” he said, wiggling his boot and miming sticking it through the window. “Look, can you- Are you…? Stop laughing, this isn’t funny!”

You stuck your hand over your mouth and feigned absolute seriousness, shaking your head. “The infamous Samuel Drake. Outsmarted by a kitten…”

His eyes flashed with irritation but there was a hint of a smile at the edges of his lips. “For chrissakes, can you just take it so I can climb down?”

Still sniggering, you headed out onto the fire escape and climbed halfway up the ladder, stretching out to snag the little fluffball. It was black and white and small enough to grab around the middle with one hand. It mewled as it left the warmth of Sam’s arm and curled into a ball against your shoulder as you carefully climbed back down.

Sam let out a sigh of relief to have both his hands back, swinging himself back across to the ladder with an athletic ease that did terrible, tingling things to your insides. He followed you back through the window, wiping the rain off his face with his shirtsleeve.

You held up the kitten, checking for a collar or a tag, but it was just a little stray, bedraggled and wide-eyed. Sam reached over and booped it on the nose. “Troublemaker,” he muttered.

“Oh, _this one’s_ the troublemaker?” you laughed, nodding at the broken window.

Sam spread his arms in disbelief, “What? That was heroic and you know it.”

The cat made a little ‘rawr’ sound.

“See?” Sam said, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you tight against him, tickling the kitten behind the ears with his free hand. “Francis thinks I’m a hero.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Francis?”

He gave a hopeful, lopsided smile. “As in… Drake?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no – first you name it, then you wanna keep it-”

You rolled your eyes and tried to wriggle free from his grip but he gave a low chuckle and held you closer, swaying you both from side to side with the little creature cradled between your chests. 

“It’s a great name though, right?” he said, “Little fella’s _clearly_ got an adventurous spirit.”

The kitten seemed to be in cahoots with him and clawed its way up his shoulder, settling against the tattooed birds on his neck like some ridiculous pirate parrot-cat.

He gestured triumphantly at his new friend with an irrepressible grin. “Huh? Huh?”

It was undeniably cute. The pair of them. Two idiot Drakes.

“Francis…” you repeated quietly, unable to stop a smile from creeping across your face.

Sam hooked a finger under your chin and tilted your lips up to his, leaning down to brush a hint of a kiss against them. You shivered as every hair on the back of your neck stood to attention.

His gravelly whisper was right beside your ear, his breath tickling your neck: “I promise I’ll feed it and clean up its shit and take it for walks-”

A laugh burst out of you. “You don’t take cats for walks, Sam – and we live on the fifth floor!”

“Ah, we’ll figure it out…” He cut off your protestations with another kiss, and this time it was deeper, bending you backwards, one hand pressed against the small of your back, the other at the nape of your neck.

You melted, just a little - not so you’d admit it, because you had a rule about using kisses as an underhand way of winning arguments, but you let this one slide.

Just this once.


	3. In which Sam is not allowed in all-you-can-eat restaurants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“No, no, no, no… Elena, why didn’t you stop him?”_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _“Huh? Why? Should I have?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _A deep groan emerged from Nate’s throat. “Never let Sam into an all-you-can-eat place. He… sees it as a challenge.”_
> 
>  
> 
> **In which Sam is not allowed in all-you-can-eat restaurants because a lifetime of street life and prison rations means he will never leave.**

Friday night used to be date night for Nate and Elena, but somewhere along the way they'd acquired a number of tag-alongs. At first it was a way to take advantage of the rare occasions Sully and Sam were in town. Then Chloe got wind of it and basically invited herself and Nadine. And then, of course, there was no one left to babysit, so Cassie had to come too. Cutter had even turned up once or twice.

It was hard to resent it – there was something kind of blissful about sitting at a table with the people you cared most about in the world – even if they spent most of their time bickering and stealing each others’ food.

On this particular evening Nate was running late. An extended meeting with the show producers and then a nightmare trying to find a parking spot on a Friday night meant he was already forty minutes behind the others and by the time he ditched the car he was a good six blocks away from the address Sully had texted him. His phone started ringing the moment he started off down the street.

Elena: “Nate, where _are_ you?”

“On my way. Order for me, will you?” he sighed, “It has been… a day.”

“Sure. It’s a self-serve place, I’ll get you a plate – any requests?”

Nate stopped dead. “Wait, what? Where are you?”

The sound of a busy restaurant came through the phone speaker – the clinking of cutlery, laughter, and the familiar sound of his friends arguing, of course.

“Uhhm, it’s called ‘Split Your Sides’ – all you can eat. Cheap, too, which is good ‘cause it’s our turn to pay. Sam chose it.”

Nate closed his eyes. “No, no, no, no… Elena, why didn’t you stop him?”

“Huh? Why? Should I have?”

A deep groan emerged from Nate’s throat. “ _Never_ let Sam into an all-you-can-eat place. He… sees it as a _challenge_.”

Elena laughed. “Don’t be such a killjoy. You know, I think it might be the happiest I’ve ever seen him…”

Nate shook his head and picked up his pace, “Just… try to stop him from turning into Mr Creosote before I get there, okay?”

*

The situation was worse than he could have expected. The group was crowded onto a long table at the back. Chloe and Sully were in the corner, laughing uproariously about some past job while Nadine sat massaging her full belly, sipping on a coffee. Elena was busy with the crayons and colouring pages the staff had clearly left for Cassie, while her daughter was making a Jenga pile out of spare rib bones. And Sam, sitting right at the centre of this last supper tableau, was already surrounded by empty plates.

“Nathan!” Sam said, mouth full of food, as he spotted his brother. “You made it!”

Nate rolled his eyes and grabbed a passing waitress. “Hey, uh, don't you have a limit or something?”

The waitress pointed at the bold ‘all-you-can-eat’ sign that hung above the buffet with a bored look.

Nate winced. “Okay, but can you just lie and tell him there’s a limit?”

The waitress shrugged and continued on her way.

“That’s his fifth plate!” Cassie grinned up at her father. “And I’ve eaten sixteen ribs. So far. I’m going for a record.”

“What have you done?” Nate whispered to Elena, eyeing the picture she was colouring with distaste. “And what the hell is that?”

Elena smirked, holding up her masterpiece with pride, “I made it for you. It’s going on the fridge.”

The image showed two clowns doing a juggling act, lovingly coloured-in by his doting wife. Nate was sure she’d made the eyes deliberately evil and the teeth extra spiky.

Hey narrowed his eyes at her. “Really, Elena? Clowns? Jesus… this is a nightmare.”

Nate sunk down beside his brother with a resigned sigh.

“Shut up and eat, little brother,” Sam said, a childish smirk on his face. “Remember when we used to hit these places when we were kids?”

“Yes, I do. We got banned from three of 'em. Banned for life, Sam.”

Sam shrugged, tearing into a chicken wing with glee. “Not my fault they tried to stick us with a loophole. ‘All you can eat’ should mean ‘all you can eat’.”

Nate dropped his head into his hands. “Yeah well they tend to get kinda irked when you spend six hours there trying to get breakfast, lunch, and dinner out of the deal.”

“False advertising, that’s what it is.” Sam finished his plate, wiped his face and clapped his hands together. “Gotta get your money's worth, right? Aaaand I’m ready for round six. You comin’?”

Nate tugged on Sam’s shirt as his brother attempted to climb over Nadine to get to the food bar. “Seriously, Sam, take it easy.”

“But I haven’t tried everything yet!” Sam protested, as Nadine shoved him backwards with an unimpressed look. Sam ducked under the table instead, emerging with the tablecloth draped over his head. “There’s six kinds of shrimp, Nathan.”

"Damn good shrimp, too," Sully chimed in.

Nate groaned again. “Rule number one: never eat seafood at these kinds of places. It’s probably been sitting out all day…”

Sam gave him a roguish grin. “Live dangerously, little brother. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Well, considering you’re staying at my place tonight, I’d say the worst is that you end up deep-cleaning my bathroom tomorrow.”

Sam shrugged. “I can live with that.”

Chloe looked up as Sam passed her and held up her plate, “Oh, oh, get me some of that rice while you’re up. And more pulled pork. And salad. And… you want anything, Sunshine?” she added, nudging Nadine.

Nadine perused the buffet with a critical eye and nodded sombrely at Sam. “Cheesecake. Both kinds.”

“Attagirl,” Chloe beamed.

Sam almost had an aneurism. “Holy shit, there’s a dessert cart, too?”

Nate stared up at his brother in a mixture of awe and despair. “You’re gonna die here, you know? Right here. You’re gonna explode and we’re gonna have to clean you off the walls."

Sully chuckled, "Helluva way to go. We’ll put up a plaque or something: _Here lies Samuel Drake, death by buffet_.”

Sam pushed out his gut and struck a mighty pose. “Baby, I haven’t even got started.”

*

Later – much later – back at Nate and Elena’s place, when Cassie was in bed, Chloe and Nadine had headed home, and Sully had fallen asleep out on the deck in an armchair, the rest of them spread themselves over the couches, conversing mainly in groans of overstuffed satisfaction.

Elena had her feet up on Nate’s lap and he was massaging them absent-mindedly.

“Ugh, I’m not gonna need to eat for another week,” she sighed. “I don’t know where you put it, Sam.”

“All in the metabolism, my dear,” Sam said with a charming wink, “I got all the good genes.”

Nate snorted. “Yeah, shame about the brain.”

Sam reached out to slap Nate on the arm, “Hey, you gotta admit you used to enjoy going to those places when we were younger. Like hitting the jackpot.”

Nate’s smile held a tinge of sadness. His memories of their childhood on the streets were always overlaid with Sam’s relentless attempts to make everything into some kind of adventure. What did it matter if you were half-starving one day if you managed to con some poor restaurant owner out of a few hundred dollars of food the next?

 _Live in the moment_ , Sam used to say. But Nate couldn't help fill in the other half of that sentence in his head: _Because we might not get to eat at all tomorrow._

They’d stuff themselves stupid – and pay for it afterwards, their stomachs unused to so much food all at once – but at least they’d feel like kings for the day.

Nate guessed things hadn’t been much different for Sam in Panama. He knew all too well what prison food was like. Barely worth the trouble. But it was all Sam'd had for thirteen long years. And though those days were far behind him, Sam still acted as if he might get sent back there any day – desperate to make the most of every single experience that came his way.

 _Live in the moment_. That’s exactly what Sam did. And how could Nate begrudge him that, after everything he'd sacrificed?

Plus, Elena was right – Sam was never happier than when he had a full plate of food in front of him. His smile grew warmer, eyes glittering at the memories of the two of them, guts busting at the seams, feeling as if they'd landed the biggest treasure in the world.

Nate let out a little laugh through his nose. “Yeah. Jackpot.”

"Life is good, little brother," Sam said with a grunting sigh as he hauled himself to his feet and shuffled off to the kitchen. A few seconds later the glow of the fridge illuminated the room.

Nate blinked. “Sam? You are not seriously…”

Elena cackled as Sam came back into view with a packet of chips, a bowl of dip, and a sheepish grin. 

Nate rolled his eyes. "You're unbelievable."

“What?” Sam protested, crunching obnoxiously, “Man can’t have a little midnight snack?”

Nate rolled his eyes. Elena wiggled her fingers at Sam for a handful of chips and started tossing them at Nate's head. He retaliated by ruthlessly tickling her feet and she tumbled off the sofa with a squeak. Sam lost his shit and bent double, choking on crumbs

Nate picked a chip out of his hair with a wry smile.

_Yeah. Life is good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Sam is totally one of those people who can eat their body weight without putting on a single pound. He also has a lot of hard times to make up for.
> 
> This one's not from a prompt - just a passing thought that made me laugh - but feel free to send me your faves from this list of [dialogue prompts](http://ignorantarmiesclashbynight.tumblr.com/post/172448371503/dialogue-prompts) and [story starters](http://ignorantarmiesclashbynight.tumblr.com/post/172650987728/random-starters), or whatever the hell you fancy. :D


	4. In which Sam is a domestic goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I pegged you as more of a 'ramen in a coffee maker' kinda guy..."_
> 
> **In which Sam is a domestic goddess**

No matter how many times they said he wasn’t imposing, Sam still felt awkward staying with Nathan and Elena. But after a long summer of being away from them all, and while he was temporarily between jobs, he had to admit it was kinda nice to just kick back on the beach for a while and have nothing much to worry about apart from choosing what to have for dinner and keeping a feisty three-year-old entertained all day.

Plus, he liked having a kitchen to potter about in. A proper, fully-stocked kitchen and a table of people to cook for. He never got much chance to take his time over meals when he and Nathan were younger, or when he was out on the trail with Victor. It was more of a case of getting something in your belly as fast as possible before the next disaster arrived.

And he was a good cook, too. Something that surprised Elena when she found him stirring white sauce on the stove, a serene little expression on his face.

“Whatcha makin’ there?” she asked him, Cassie on one hip, the laundry basket against the other. 

“Uncle Sammy’s world-famous lasagna,” he replied grandly as Cassie reached over to steal a pinch of grated cheese from the chopping board.

“From scratch?” Elena said. “Impressive, Sam.”

Nathan followed his nose into the kitchen and tried his own cheese-stealing heist but was rewarded with a sharp tap on the knuckles with a wooden spoon.

“Oh man, lasagna? How long ‘til it’s ready?”

“Patience, little brother. Go clear the table, will ya? And _you_ ,” he said to Cassie, who'd hopped down from her mom’s hip and was dragging a chair over to the counter, “You have the most important job.”

He passed her a butter knife and set a punnet of cherry tomatoes in front of her. “Chop these up for the salad. And no sneaking a taste when I'm not lookin'...”

Cassie nodded seriously and got to work while Nathan started shifting a stack of research papers off the dining table. Elena watched the three of them in stunned awe.

“You know, I pegged you as more of a ‘ramen in a coffee maker’ kinda guy,” she said, putting down the laundry and supervising her daughter’s over-eager knife skills.

Sam laughed, “How do you think we got by when it was just me and Nathan?”

“Uh. Well. Judging by Nate’s cooking abilities…”

“Hey!” Nathan gave his wife a deeply-offended look. “Sam and Sully taught me everything I know.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “Nate, when I met you, you could burn water.”

Nathan gave a shrug. “Well, they _tried_ to teach me. I just didn’t pay attention.”

“Give him a microwave and he’s all good,” Sam commented, layering up the pasta and ragù and sauce with casual ease.

“Actually, I think I did make ramen in a coffee maker once...” Nathan mused.

“Seriously, Sam, this looks amazing,” Elena said. “Thank you.”

Sam smiled shyly. “Least I could do. Gotta earn my keep, right?”

*

He washed up, too, despite Elena’s protestations that it was Nathan’s turn. And then he wiped down the surfaces. And portioned out leftovers and put them in the fridge. And, in the morning, Elena discovered that the laundry she’d left forgotten on the arm of the sofa had all been folded and put away. Like magic.

“Should we just, like, employ him as a maid?” she asked Nathan over breakfast, as Sam helped Cassie to make oatmeal.

“Do we even have to pay him?” Nathan said, pouring himself a second coffee. “He kinda loves all this crap.”

“Right here,” Sam drawled, “Can hear every word.”

“He always leaves the toilet seat down, too,” Elena continued, with a shrewd look at her husband. “ _And_ he hangs up his towels instead of leaving them... all over the place.”

Nate matched her gaze with just a trace of a teasing smirk. “Well, why don’t you just marry him then?”

She considered it for a moment before stretching out her back and letting out a massive yawn, “Nah. Too much paperwork.”

“Right. Here,” Sam muttered.

But he smiled into Cassie's hair, arms wrapped around her, guiding her little hand on the wooden spoon as the oatmeal thickened in the pan. He could get used to this domestic shit. Maybe. Just for a little while. So long as they'd have him. 

"So... who wants bacon?" he asked, stifling a grin at the earnest chorus of 'yeses' (and one 'hell yeah!') that came flying right back at him.

_Just a little while longer then. That would be okay._


	5. In which Sam has a thing for scented candles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s the little things that you miss the most. The smell of fresh citrus... Little things. But they add up._
> 
> **In which Sam has a thing for scented candles**

 

They had three hours to kill before their connecting flight. Chloe headed straight for the food court, Nadine found a quiet corner to take a power nap, and Sam… Well, Sam straight up disappeared.

“He’s been ages. Maybe he’s looking for somewhere to sneak a smoke,” Chloe mused, nudging Nadine awake and passing her a coffee.

Nadine gave a sleepy grumble of thanks, stretching out her back with a sigh. “Have you checked the mall?”

“You think he’s _shopping_?” Chloe said, eyebrows shooting up.

“Try the homeware section,” Nadine replied with a sly smile.

“The what now?”

“Haven’t you noticed? He has a thing.”

“A ‘thing’?”

Nadine nodded seriously and Chloe eyed her partner with suspicion. “This I have to see…”

*

True enough, after a brief search, they found him deep within the bed, bath and home furnishing area of the mini-mall, peering intently at a wall-to-wall shelf of scented candles.

“ _This_ is what you’re spending your cut on?” Chloe said, making him jump.

He recovered quickly, hunching his shoulders. “What? They smell nice. I have an apartment now. Sometimes a man needs to be… domestic.” 

“Yeah, you’re gonna need something to cover up the stink of cigarettes and BO,” Nadine muttered, lifting the lid of the nearest candle and taking a disdainful sniff.

Chloe grabbed the glass jar Sam was holding and read the label. “ _Citrus Surprise_ … So, what’s the surprise?”

Sam took it back, pressing it protectively against his chest. “I… actually I have no idea. Maybe it explodes or something. Look, I just like the smell of lemons, okay?”

“Citronella. It keeps mosquitos away,” Nadine commented, “Good choice.”

Sam inclined his head to her, “ _Thank you._ Someone who understands.”

Nadine shrugged, “They make good gifts, too.”

“Exactly!” Sam nodded eagerly, “It’s like… you gotta match the scent to the person, right?”

Chloe stared at them both. “Who _are_ you? And what have you done with Sam and Nadine?”

But Nadine was already trailing a hand across the shelves in concentration. “ _Bacon_?” she said, picking out a dark red candle, “Who the hell would want a bacon-scented candle?”

Sam grinned at Chloe and they answered in unison: “Nathan.”

Nadine rolled her eyes. “Typical.” 

“Okay…” Chloe said slowly, “I’m getting it. What about Elena?”

“Oh that’s easy,” Sam replied, wiggling his fingers in anticipation as he sought out the jar he was looking for. With a triumphant, “Aha!” he passed it to Chloe.

“ _Cinnamon Roll_ ,” Chloe read, eyes widening in appreciation.

“Am I right or am I right?” said Sam, arms spread wide.

“Alright,” Chloe laughed, “Two for two. Who’s next? Cutter?”

Sam chewed on his lower lip, uncertain. “You know him better than me.”

Chloe scanned the shelves for a moment, eyes narrowed, before pulling out a white candle with an affectionate smile.

Nadine peered over her shoulder to read the label: “ _Marshmallow Fluff_? Cute.”

Chloe stuck her nose into the candle and gave a childish smirk. “He’s like the Michelin Man – a great big squishy giant.”

Sam laughed, “See, you’re a natural.”

“Um… You’ve forgotten Victor,” Nadine said, with a glint in her eye.

Sam caught the attention of a passing member of staff and asked her, with a completely straight face, “Excuse me, Miss. You don’t happen to have one called ‘ _Salty Dog_ ’, do you?”

Nadine snorted. 

“Or, or… ‘ _Navy Dreams_ ’?” Chloe cackled.

The sales attendant didn’t even crack a smile. “Well, if you’re looking for something sea-themed…” She pointed out a jar on the top shelf and Sam took it down with a low chuckle.

“Oh, oh, ohmygod, this is perfect, thank you.”

Sam held the candle out for the others to see, a shit-eating grin on his face: “ _Ocean Wisdom_!” 

The three of them fell to pieces, giggling like children. The attendant stepped away with a resigned shake of her head.

A considerable time later they finally left the store, having dropped several hundred dollars on candles, their bags weighed down with glass jars and mere minutes left to catch their flight.

Every so often, one of them would mutter the name of a particularly ridiculous scent and they’d be off again, snorting and sniggering all the way to the gate.

*

In the taxi home, Sam sat with his lemon-scented candle in his lap, fighting sleep by breathing in the fresh citrus he’d dreamed of for thirteen long years in Panama. It was easy to take his freedom for granted these days, but every so often a little thing like this would bring it all back – how lucky he was to be here. How life was made up of tiny little moments and gestures - and how you had to make the most of every single one.

He let his head fall back against the seat back and yawned contentedly. So the last job hadn’t yielded a fortune, but it was enough to give him some downtime with Nathan and Elena, not to mention a year’s supply of candles...

He’d parted ways with Chloe and Nadine after they’d landed – the two of them getting in their own separate cab – but he’d managed to slip a little present for each of them into their hand luggage before they left. A little smile twisted his lips.

*

“ _Fluffy Towels_?” Nadine said, pulling the jar out of her duffel bag. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Chloe leaned over to give the candle a sniff. “Ooh, it’s like fresh laundry.”

Nadine smelled it suspiciously, then her brow smoothed in surprise. “Oh. It’s quite nice, actually.”

Chloe elbowed her, “And under all that muscle you’re just a big softie.”

Nadine fixed her with a glare that a lesser woman would have shrunk from, but Chloe just beamed back. Nadine sighed in defeat.

“Alright, what did he give you then?”

Chloe turned her jar around until she could read the name and her smile broadened. “ _Ray of_ _Sunshine_. Huh. Who knew Sam was such a cornball?”

Nadine gave a little ‘humph’ that Chloe translated as reluctant approval. “Well. He’s not a _complete_ arsehole, I suppose.”

Chloe snorted. “ _Samuel Drake: not a complete arsehole_. That one’s going on his tombstone.”

“Along with a load of scented candles…” Nadine added, allowing herself a tiny smile.

“Right, like: _Gunsmoke and Bad Decisions._ ”

“ _Unwashed Vest._ ”

“ _Ashtray Allure_.”

They would have continued but due to a very real risk of hyperventilation they had to stop, leaning against one another in the backseat of the taxi as the giggles subsided into hiccups and snorts, and the mingled scents of ‘fluffy towels’ and ‘sunshine’ filled the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Sam's little cheesy line when he's wandering around the lemon grove in Italy and Nathan asks him what he missed in prison: 
> 
> "It’s the little things that you miss the most. The smell of fresh citrus... Riding a motorcycle. Little things. But they add up."
> 
> And finding stupid candle names to match each character was just too funny to pass up.


	6. In which Sam (and Sully) keeps a promise to Nathan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Boyo? I need your help.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _The message set off a bunch of warning bells in Sam’s head but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met him when he turned up at Sully’s apartment._
> 
>  
> 
> _He stared, an unlit cigarette drooping from the corner of his open mouth._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Elena’s gonna kill us.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _**In which Sam (and Sully) keeps a promise to Nathan ******_

“Boyo? I need your help.”

The message set off a bunch of warning bells in Sam’s head but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met him when he turned up at Sully’s apartment.

He stared, an unlit cigarette drooping from the corner of his open mouth.

“Elena’s gonna kill us.”

Sully tutted, “You think I’d do this without telling her? She was the first one I called.”

Sam shook his head incredulously. “Does Nathan know?”

“Nope. And neither does Cassie. She’s gonna have a fit,” Sully chuckled.

A small smile was creeping across Sam’s lips, too. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair and knelt down to look closer at the puppy chewing furiously on Sully’s shoelaces.

“Where the hell did you get it?”

Sully shrugged. “Got a friend owns a farm out in the sticks. Her dog had a litter – she’d sold all the rest but couldn’t get rid of this one. So I… took it off her hands.”

Sam sat back on his heels, peering suspiciously at the little yellow pup. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing!” Sully protested. “Well, except... Apparently she’s a little… rambunctious.”

“ _Rambunctious_?” Sam repeated.

Sully tilted his head affectionately, crouching down to scratch the puppy under the chin. The dog yapped in excitement, tail wagging wildly, and tried to climb up into his lap. “Reminds you of Nate, doesn’t she? She’s a golden retriever – get it?” he said with a sly wink.

Sam paused in confusion for a moment before coughing out a groaning laugh. “Gold… retriever… treasure hunter… oh _god_ , Victor, that’s terrible.”

Sully ignored him, scooping up the puppy and handing Sam a bag of assorted doggy accoutrements – toys, treats, a lead, and a little beanbag bed. “So. It’s a couple of hours to Nate’s place. I need you to keep an eye on her while I drive.”

Sam backed away, hands up in defence. “Woah, woah, I’m not getting involved in this one. I am _not_ a dog person.”

Sully fixed him with a stare. “Look. I made a promise to Nate. And from what he’s told me, so did you. So this one’s on both of us, okay?”

Sam stammered into silence. _How did Victor know?_

Nathan had always wanted a dog, ever since he was little. He used to badger their parents for one every Christmas and birthday, but the amount they travelled for their mom’s work it was just impossible. And then, in the boys’ home, orphaned, grieving and clinging to one another for some semblance of normality, Sam had made his first promise – a somber oath to the tear-streaked five-year-old huddled in his arms.

“We’ll get you a puppy, as soon as we’re out of this place. Whatever kind you like. You can even pick the name.”

Nathan had looked up at him with those wide blue eyes and cracked his first smile in weeks. “You mean it?”

“Sure,” Sam grinned, “We’ll teach it tricks and everything.”

Even at the time, he’d known it was a lie, but it had given Nathan something to hope for. The adoption rate at the orphanage was pathetically low, its children mostly coming from difficult backgrounds – ‘unplaceable’, the nuns called them - and Sam had no illusions about their potential for a foster home or a permanent family. By the age of twelve he’d accumulated a list of misdemeanours that earned him his own drawer in Sister Catherine’s filing cabinet, and Nathan was fast following in his footsteps, so he knew there was no point trying to convince themselves that there was some hypothetical well-meaning couple out there just begging to take on a couple of tearaway boys. No. It was just the two of them. And, who knew, maybe, one day, a dog.

But after Sam broke Nathan out of St Francis’ and they went on the run, it was clear there was no way a puppy was a viable option - though that still didn’t stop Nathan from asking asking on a regular basis.

“You promised,” the kid pouted. “It could be a guard dog. It could keep watch for us.”

Sam was already pushed to his limit, thrown into a life on the streets, desperately trying to take care of his kid brother when he was barely more than a kid himself, terrified that they were wanted for the ‘murder’ of that old lady Evelyn, and with no clear plan on what the hell they were going to do next... And all Nathan could think about was a freakin’ _dog_?

He tried to hold onto his patience but frustration eventually got the better of him. Nathan started pointing out every damn dog he saw, weighing up the pros and cons of different breeds and temperaments, and one day Sam just snapped. 

“Remember that little terrier outside the 7/11 the other day?" Nathan pestered, "His nametag said 'Roger' and he gave me his paw when I asked for it. So cool. Terriers are really good at digging, too. You never know, a dog might help us find the treasure. Y’know, sniff it out? Or I kinda like greyhounds – there was this shelter back in Boston for retired racing dogs. They’re so fast, Sam, have you ever seen one run? But they’re sorta bony. I want a dog I can use as a pillow…”

“Nathan, for chrissakes,” Sam exploded, “I can barely feed the pair of us – how the hell are we supposed to look after a puppy, too? I don’t even know where we’re going to sleep tonight. You want to add a dog into the mix? Barking all the time and giving us away when we’re trying to stay quiet? Pissing and shitting everywhere? You gonna take it for walks, huh? Pay for vet bills? Maybe you can teach it to beg - earn us some goddamn money…”

He trailed off, feeling sick, suddenly, at the injured expression on his little brother’s face.

“I just thought…” Nathan said, very quietly, and Sam’s resolve crumpled.

He crouched down and laid heavy hands on Nathan’s shoulders. “I know, I know, little brother. I’m sorry. It’s just-” 

He sighed. He was so very sick of telling his brother ‘no’. Was this what being an adult was all about? Ruining all your childhood dreams? Letting reality slowly crush you into dust?

Screw that. They had their mother’s journal. They sure as hell were going to see _that_ dream through. So why not a damn puppy, too?

“I promise you,” he said firmly, “One day, I swear, I’ll get you a dog. Just not right now. Once we’re settled, okay?”

Nathan perked up a little, but Sam could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. The older he got, the more he seemed to recognise the way Sam’s words never seemed to correlate with his actions. The kid nodded obediently, all the same, “Okay,” he said, and didn’t ask again for a long while.

After that, Sam always managed to deflect the question – _not yet, maybe next year, when we have our own place, after this next job, when I’m out of prison_ – there was always another delay. And then they joined up with Victor – not exactly a foster father, but something like that – and for a time they set up a semi-permanent residence. A home of sorts. And Sam could feel the question brewing in Nathan’s mind, even before it reached his tongue. Except, this time, he didn’t ask Sam.

“Sully, what do you think about getting a dog?” Nathan said, as casual as he could manage, one evening.

The old man snorted, puffing out a stream of cigar smoke. “What the hell you want a dog for?”

Nathan shrugged, looking embarrassed. He was seventeen now but still had the ability to shrink back into that uncertain, damaged, abandoned child that Sam always saw in the shadows behind his brother’s eyes. “I dunno. I just like ‘em. Could be like a mascot, y’know?”

Sully laughed good naturedly, shaking his head. “Maybe when we retire. If we live that long. This kind of business isn’t exactly ideal for keeping a pet around.”

Sam shot his brother an ‘I told you so’ look, but felt miserable for doing it, and Nathan did a poor job of hiding his disappointment, nodding glumly. He caught his big brother’s eye and attempted a half-hearted smile. “One day, huh?”

“One day,” Sam repeated quietly, wondering how long it would be before Nathan worked out his brother was a bare-faced liar. “I promise.”

Sully was watching them both – but mostly Sam – with a curious look in his eye, as if he suspected there was more to the request than either of them were letting on. Sam avoided his gaze and thankfully the old man didn’t pursue it. Victor was good that way.

How many years ago was that? Before everything went to shit. Before Sam 'died'. But, evidently, Sully hadn't forgotten. And all this time, Nathan had never fulfilled that childhood dream. Maybe he’d come to the same conclusion – that puppies and treasure hunting just didn’t mix. Or maybe the thought of getting the dog Sam had always promised him was just too painful to consider...

Sam’s fingers tightened around the bag and he watched the puppy wriggle in Sully’s arms with a lurching rush of guilt and gratitude. The old man had remembered. He’d realised how much it would mean to Nathan, even after all this time Not only that, but he hadn’t even wanted to take all the credit himself. He’d known there was something unspoken between the Drake brothers and he’d made sure Sam played a part in making amends.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and reached out to stroke the little dog behind the ear. It licked his thumb and nuzzled its nose into his palm.

“I guess it’s pretty cute,” he said at last, then rearranged his face into a scornful frown. “But if it pees on me, you’re buying me a new pair of pants.”

Sully rolled his eyes. “Just get in the car.”

 

* * *

 

The puppy only had one accident on the journey over, and she did it on the backseat, not Sam’s lap, so he forgave her, despite Sully’s grumbling about his upholstery. Sam held onto her little red collar as she jumped up at the windows, trying to snap at the wind rushing past, and attempted to teach her to sit without much success, no matter how many treats he fed her. Mostly, she just wanted attention, nipping at his fingers whenever he stopped stroking her and clambering up his chest to lick his chin. About an hour into the journey (and after the pee incident) she finally settled down, curling up into a ball beside his leg, and snuffled her way to sleep, assisted by the slow, gentle carding of his fingers through her fur.

He caught Sully watching him in the rearview and scowled at the smirk on the old man’s face.

“It might’ve worked, you know,” Sully said.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“A dog. Way back when. Might’ve forced us all to slow down a little. Take a few fewer risks maybe.” Sully’s eyes looked tight around the edges and Sam guessed what he was thinking about.

_The Panama job._

Sam took a deep breath and let it out again with a sigh. “Yeah, maybe.” He was never quite sure how Sully felt about the years Sam was presumed dead. Or his miraculous resurrection. Sometimes he wondered if Sully thought it might’ve been easier for him to stay gone... But then there were times like this, when the old man went out of his way to try to mend the rift Sam had forged between the two brothers. Sam shook his head. He didn’t understand Sully – never really had – but he was coming to appreciate why Nathan had always put so much trust in him. 

“Better late than never, huh?” Sam said, keen to change the direction of the conversation. “So when the hell did _you_ promise him a puppy?”

Sully laughed at some hidden joke, “Ahh, it was more to do with what to call it…”

Sam eyed him suspiciously. “And what might that be?”

But Sully turned back to the road. “You’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

Elena met them at the back door, bubbling with excitement as she sneaked them in through the laundry room to the lounge.

“Nate’s just getting Cassie up from her nap,” she whispered, unable to keep her eyes off the little fluffball in Sam's arms. The puppy was busy slobbering all over his left ear in an attempt to show her appreciation of his general existence.

“She likes you,” Elena sniggered.

“Hmmph,” Sam replied, scowling at Sully’s amused expression. 

Elena shushed them both as footsteps sounded down the corridor and pushed Sam behind the door with giggly instructions to stay hidden.

Sam tried to keep the puppy quiet and still, tucking her under his arm and resting a hand gently on her muzzle. He heard Nathan enter the lounge, muttering singsong platitudes to Cassie who was grumbling sleepily.

“Hey, kid,” came Sully’s gravelly voice, and “Sully!” came Cassie’s shriek of happiness, followed by the pitter patter of little two-year-old feet running across the room and a whoomph of expelled air as she barrelled into Sully.

“What’re you doing here?” Nathan asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Just dropping off a little something,” Sully said cryptically.

"A present?" Cassie piped up hopefully.

Elena coughed out a theatrical “ahem” and there was a moment of anticipatory silence.

Sam steeled himself. _Guess that’s my cue_ …

The puppy was wriggling like a demon in his arms, desperate to investigate the new smells and voices all around, but he held onto her, tucking her behind his back as he stepped out from his hiding place with a soft, “Hi.” 

“Sam!” Nathan greeted him with that age-old open smile that made Sam’s heart ache with affection. But when Sam remained stock still in the doorway, Nathan’s brow furrowed, looking from face to face in confusion.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Cassie,” Sam said softly, bending down as his niece toddled towards him, “Just wait there a second. Now close your eyes…”

She did as she was told, more or less, squinting out of one eye and rocking from foot to foot as she struggled to stay still.

Nathan watched his brother curiously and Sam couldn’t stop a grin creasing his eyes as he carefully brought the furry bundle out from behind his back.

Cassie’s eyes flew open at her father’s gasp and, free at last, the puppy bounded over to the little girl, almost knocking her down with its playful enthusiasm. The dog was pretty much as big as she was, and Cassie squealed with delight as it ran excited circles around her.

“You… You got a dog?” Nathan asked, blinking in shock.

“Nope, _you_ got a dog,” Sam corrected. “I mean, if you want it. You don’t have to, if it’s gonna be too much trouble...”  _Guess I could always take the dumb little thing if he doesn't._

Nathan stared at him in disbelief, at a total loss for words. Elena was watching them both with barely-restrained glee, and Sully was crouching next to Cassie, whispering calming words to the puppy and showing his granddaughter the best places to scratch.

“It was Victor’s idea,” Sam added, feeling a need to fill the silence, and uncomfortable at all the attention.

“Just fulfilling a promise,” Sully said, shooting him a meaningful look. 

Nathan sat down on the coffee table with a heavy thud, apparently unable to say anything at all. The puppy broke free of Cassie’s ministrations and padded over to him, jumping up to rest her paws on his knees and nudging his hands with her wet nose. Nathan tousled her little fluffy head and let out a shaky ‘huh’.

“What’s it’s name?” he asked at last.

Sully cleared his throat self-consciously. “Thought you already had one picked out,” he said with a smirk. “Though… she’s a girl, so…”

Nathan threw back his head and laughed. The pup yapped. Elena and Sam exchanged bewildered looks.

“Well then…” Nathan said thoughtfully. “Guess she’ll have to be Vicky, instead.” He patted the puppy’s flank, speaking to her in the same soft tone he used with his daughter. “How'd you like that, huh? Vicky?”

The puppy let out an appreciative ‘rawl’ and leaned against his leg contentedly as Cassie climbed up into her father’s lap and joined in the snuggle.

“Just so we’re clear,” Elena said, with an arch of her eyebrow, “You’re on pooper scooper duty. Like, forever.”

Nathan snorted. But when he looked back up at his brother and Sully there was a trace of wetness in his eyes.

“Thank you. I- Just. Thank you.”

Sam sniffed. His eyes were prickling, too. Maybe he was allergic to the damn thing. Typical. Stupid dog. Good thing it was cute, or he’d never be able to put up with it. He swiped at the corner of his eye with the back of his hand and gave a little shrug.

“Hey. A promise is a promise, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe I haven't written about Puppy!Vicky yet. So, basically this whole thing was built around the Golden Retriever pun so... you're welcome.
> 
> And in case it wasn’t abundantly obvious or you missed the dialogue in the game it was inspired by the part in Madagascar where Nate says: “After all this is over, I think I’m gonna get a dog.”
> 
> Sully says something like: “If we get out of here in one piece I’ll buy you the damn dog.”
> 
> And Nate asks: “Can I call it Victor?”
> 
> :D


End file.
